


Make Bonding

by clgfanfic



Category: Soldier of Fortune Inc.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 09:57:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a post-"Last Chance" story</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Bonding

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Don't Ask, Don't Tell #3 under the pen name Layel Karson.

Benny Ray took a sip of the cold coffee still left in his paper cup.  He swallowed, then grimaced.  Hospital coffee.  It sucked when it was hot, and cold it was even worse.  With a soft sigh he stood and carried the container, and the rest of its toxic contents, to the closest garbage can and dropped it in.  Leaning into the hall he was able to see the nurses' station about halfway down the corridor.  He watched for a while as several women and one young Hispanic man came and went, carrying out their various tasks, but there was no sign of the doctor who was supposed to come and tell them how Chance was doing.

He scowled and turned back to the waiting room.  Matt was sitting near the windows, gazing out into the parking lot.  Margo was curled up in one of the large over-stuffed chairs, thumbing through a magazine.  And C.J. was sitting on one of the two sofas, watching cartoons on the small television positioned in one corner of the room.  The volume was turned off, but the images were holding the man's attention.

The sniper arched his back, trying to stretch out the tight, aching kinks that had settled just above his hips.  He was still sore; they all were.  Crash landing in the middle of a jungle would do that to you.  But as far as he was concerned, they were all damned lucky to be alive… some of them more lucky than others.

They had each been checked out by doctors on the U.S. base in Panama.  Cuts, bruises, and a few nasty lumps, bumps and abrasions were all they'd really suffered.  But Chance was another matter.  The handsome black pilot had suffered four broken ribs, a fractured collarbone, and a bruised kidney.  And then there was the cut along his scalp, and the narrowly-missed mild concussion – although Matt had mentioned that the egg-sized lump on Chance's scalp was still good-sized and his head still ached.

As a result of his injuries, and the mild shock, the physicians had kept him in the base hospital for three days before letting him be flown back to California, where he was immediately admitted to the hospital at Coronado for another three days… and counting, if the doctor didn't let him go home today.

He and the others had honestly thought that they'd lost Chance in that jungle, and the memories kept coming back to haunt him.  The one in particular that had been waking him up at night was the moment when they'd been unable to find a pulse and assumed that the man's heart had stopped.  One of the doctors in Panama had assured them that that could not have been the case.  So C.J.'s improvised defibrillator might not have saved the man's life – the doctor thought it was probably the combination of CPR and the adrenaline that had steadied Chance's heartbeat – but at the time it had sure looked like Chance was dead, then revived by the innovative treatment.

Thinking that Chance had been knocking at death's door had rattled all of them a little.  And again, some more than others… like the sniper.  But Benny Ray couldn't decide _why_ it had bothered him so much.  He'd seen plenty of combat, plenty of death.  He'd even lost friends and comrades-in-arms.  But nothing had ever shaken him up as much as nearly losing Chance.

Benny Ray met the pilot for the first time when Shepherd put his covert special ops team together twenty-five months earlier.  They hit it off almost immediately, their friendship growing and deepening over the next two years.  In fact, Chance and Matt were the sniper's two best friends, and the thought of losing one of them had upset him a _lot_ more than he'd ever thought possible.

Or maybe it was just seeing Chance so vulnerable, he reasoned.  It was like a wake-up call, reminding him of his own mortality, and the sniper didn't appreciate it, not one little bit.  Oh, sure, there had been some close calls on the team before the crash, but nothing like that – nothing where it was just one member of the team who took the brunt of the punishment.

Maybe they'd just allowed themselves to get too close, he decided.  Not a smart move, not when you knew there was a damned good chance that one or more of them would end up getting killed in the near future.  But it was hard not to.  They really only had each other to depend on, and that fostered close ties.

"Excuse me, are all of you waiting for Mr. Walker?"

The question shook Benny Ray from his thoughts and he turned as the others all stood, walking over to gather around an older man in a white lab coat.

"Matt Shepherd," the major greeted, extending his hand to the doctor.  "We're friends of Mr. Walker's."

Lieutenant Colonel Robert Branding smiled slyly.  He knew specops when he saw them.  "Well, I'm going to release Mr. Walker, but I wanted to make sure that he _rests_ for the next few weeks.  Then I want to see him again for an evaluation.  We'll decide then about a physical therapy schedule.  So, will someone be able to ensure me that Mr. Walker takes it easy?"

"We'll see to it, Doctor," Matt assured the man, a grin lifting the corners of his mouth.  "So, he's okay."

"He's doing very well, all things considered.  But it's going to be a while before he's ready for any… fieldwork."

Matt nodded, his expression as full of relief as the others.

"When can he leave?" Margo asked, looking much happier than she had in several days.

The doctor smiled at her.  "Oh, I'd say fifteen minutes to half an hour.  He was already getting dressed before I got out the door.  A nurse will be bringing him some medications and the release forms.  Once that's all taken care of, he's free to leave."

"I better go make sure he waits for the nurse," C.J. said, quickly ducking out of the room, grinning happily and humming.

"Thank you, Doctor," Matt said, extending his hand again.

Colonel Branding shook it.  "My pleasure.  And good luck to you.  All of you," he added.  "I'm sure you're doing important work.  Mr. Walker won't be away too long."  With that the physician turned and left.

Margo flashed them a wide smile.  "I don't know about you two, but I think we should celebrate."

Matt thought about that for a moment, then nodded.  "What did you have in mind?"

"Stopping by Leonardo's and picking up a meal to go," she suggested.

"He probably won't be able to drink," Matt said, nodding, "but some near-beer should do the trick."

"Can you get that?" Margo asked.

"Sure," Matt agreed, then looked at Benny Ray.  The sniper's expression was still guarded.  "Hey," he said, smiling at the man, "you okay?"

"Copacetic," Benny Ray replied, offering a wan smile in return.

"Why don't you stop for the near-beer, and pick up some real stuff for the rest of us," Matt suggested.

Benny Ray nodded.

"A bottle of burgundy for me," Margo told him.  "If you stop by that place on Shoreline, ask for an Iron Horse '86."

"Whatever the lady wants," the sniper said, offering her a quick smile as well, but the expression never quite reached his eyes.

When Benny Ray was gone, Margo turned to Matt, asking, "Is it me, or is something bothering him?"

Matt nodded.  "Yeah, I saw it too."

"Care to share?"

He shrugged.  "I don't know.  He hasn't said anything to me.  But I'm sure he'll work it out, whatever it is."

"I hope it's soon," Margo said, looking worried.  Then she shook her head and said, "Okay, I'll go get the food.  See you back at the Silver Star."

"As soon as we have our prodigal ready to go," Matt promised.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Benny Ray maneuvered his Big Dog through the late afternoon traffic on mental auto-pilot, his thoughts still on Chance.  He hadn't actually seen much of the man since they'd been rescued from the jungle.  His first look in Panama had been enough to turn his bones to ice, so, after that, he'd found excuses to **not** drop in on the man while he was there, or once he was back in Los Angeles, for that matter.

And now he was feeling guilty about that.

Very guilty.

But he couldn't help it.  Seeing the man like that–

He cut the thought off, refusing to explore it any further.

He pulled in at the liquor store and picked up three six-packs, one of them non-alcoholic, Margo's wine, and a liter of coke for C.J.  After slipping the purchases into the saddlebags on his motorcycle, he headed for the Silver Star, hoping he could beat the others back.  He needed a little time alone to get his shit together.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Chance made his way carefully down the stairs to the basement of the old hotel that was now their headquarters.  He could smell the Italian food waiting for him and knew that someone had stopped by Leonardo's on the way home.  His stomach rumbled.  He was hungry.  No, he was starved.  Hospital food had never been one of his favorites, and he was more than ready for a good meal.

Reaching the bottom of the steps, he found Margo and Benny Ray setting the table.  They looked up, Margo smiling, Benny Ray giving him a quick appraisal before he nodded a greeting, then quickly glanced away, suddenly interested in the silverware next to one of the plates.

Matt and C.J. stopped behind the pilot.

"Hmm, that smells wonderful!" C.J. sighed, rubbing his hands together in eager anticipation.

"I'll say," Chance agreed.  "Couple more days in the hospital and I would've starved to death before I could heal up."

"Well, we can't have that," Matt said, moving around Chance, resting a hand lightly on his good shoulder while he passed, a welcome home gesture.  "What'd you get?" he asked Margo.

She finished arranging the last of the foil containers, then pulled the card-board lid off.  "Lasagna, Caesar salad, garlic breadsticks–"

"Come on," C.J. interrupted, "I'm starved myself."

Chance made his way over to the table.  The food smelled wonderful and it looked delicious.  He sat down in his usual chair, slowly, his ribs protesting the movement, but not too much.  His eyes rounded when he saw the bottle sitting in front of his plate.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing.

"The nurse said no alcohol while you're on the pain medications," Matt supplied, adding a look that reminded Chance of his grandmother, who had the best I-don't-want-any-argument-from-you-young-man stare he'd ever seen.  Shepherd's was a close second, though.

Chance rolled his eyes, but didn't complain.

A few minutes later everyone seemed to be enjoying the meal, everyone except Benny Ray, who only picked at his lasagna, although he did down three beers in rapid succession.  And, as soon as he could, he excused himself and left the table.  No one mentioned the sniper's odd behavior as they finished their meals.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Benny Ray lay on his bed in the suite he used at the Silver Star.  He was the only permanent live-in resident at the old hotel besides Matt, who owned the building.  But for the next few weeks Chance would be using the suite next to the sniper's – so they could keep an eye on him, and get him to whatever doctors' appointments he needed to keep.  However, knowing that the pilot was in his room and moving around – a little slowly if the hesitant footfalls were any indication – set the sniper's nerves on edge.  He just wasn't sure why.

Chance was his friend, he scolded himself.  So why didn't he want to be around him?  Why didn't he want to be there for the man, to help him however he could?  Why was he acting like a damned asshole?

There were no answers.  At least, none that he wanted to hear.  But one kept coming back, again and again: You're mad.  He almost died, and now you're pissed at him.  But behind that, in a whisper, was another possibility, but the sniper steadfastly refused to listen to that damning echo, focusing instead on the other.

Benny Ray snorted softly and shook his head.  That was bull; he wasn't mad at the pilot.  It wasn't Chance's fault that they'd crashed.  In fact, if it hadn't been for the man's exceptional skills, they all would have ended up dead in that damned jungle.  He ought to be thanking the man, not hiding from him.

Rolling over, Benny Ray reached for one of the bottles of beer sitting on his nightstand, but he stopped halfway, realizing that all three were empty, the small stock he kept in his mini-refrigerator finished off.  He'd have to go downstairs if he wanted more.

With a softly muttered curse, he rolled off the bed and went to his door.  He paused, listening.  No one seemed to be out and about – at least not on the second floor.  Slipping into the hall, he quickly made his way down to the basement.  A note on the whiteboard hanging on the wall near the kitchen told him C.J. was gone – he was playing a gig at the Jungle Toe – Margo had gone home, and Matt was out with "Debbie S."  The sniper shook his head.  There were times he thought Shepherd was trying to work his way though the entire Debbie-alphabet from A to freakin' Z.

He grabbed two more bottles from the refrigerator, then headed back to his room, prepared to spend the night getting good and drunk – if the beer held out that long.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

In his suite, Chance undressed, then sat to pull on a pair of soft cotton pajama pants.  He thought about wearing the shirt too, but changed his mind.  It was a warm October night.  That done, he walked slowly to his bathroom and brushed his teeth before gulping down the prescribed medications the doctor wanted him to take with a handful of water.  He was almost to his bed when his stomach grumbled loudly.  He shook his head.  How the hell could he be hungry after the dinner he ate?

Oh, well, he'd seen some cold chicken in the fridge while he'd been helping put the leftovers up.  He'd just grab some of that and a glass of milk.  That should hold him until morning. 

Walking to the door of his suite, Chance opened it and stepped out, his attention on his ribs, the ache just beginning to ease for the first time that evening.  _Man, those drugs are fast!_ he thought.

Looking up, he had just enough time to come to an abrupt stop before he plowed right into Benny Ray.

The sniper's head came up, his eyes going wide as he jerked back.  The two bottles of beer in his hand clinked together loudly.

"Sorry," Chance said, flashing Benny Ray a smile.  He'd never been able to sneak up on the man before, and he wasn't even trying.

The sniper nodded, his gaze immediately dropping to the floor.  He tried to escape back into his suite, but was stopped by Chance's question: "Hey, any more of that chicken I saw left?"

Benny Ray looked up, his expression half-scared, half-confused.  "What?"

Chance frowned, studying the sniper more closely.  He was obviously a little buzzed, but he didn't look, or sound, drunk.  But he sure acted like he was.  "You were just downstairs, right?  The fridge?  Any chicken left?"

"Oh."  Benny Ray thought a moment.  "Uh, yeah, I think so."

"Can't believe I'm hungry already."

The sniper nodded, moving again for his door.

"You want to come down and join me?"

That look again, more fear than confusion this time.  "Down?  I was, uh, just gonna…"  He trailed off, obviously unable to come up with a reasonable excuse.  "Uh, yeah, okay."

Benny Ray turned and headed back down the hall like a man marching off to his certain doom.  Chance followed behind him, wondering what in the world had gotten into the sniper.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

In the kitchen, Chance helped himself to two pieces of chicken, a scoop of the leftover salad from dinner, and a large glass of milk.  Benny Ray made do with the two beers.

They sat in silence until Chance finished eating and asked, "Hey, Benny Ray, something going on I don't know about?"

"What?" the sniper asked, looking up.

Chance hesitated a moment, debating whether he should push the man or not.  Benny Ray was obviously miles away, but he was curious and decided to press on.  "I just wanted to know if there was something wrong.  You seem a little, I don't know… distracted, I guess."

Benny Ray's cheeks went red and his eyes rounded.  "I, uh, it ain't nothin'."

Chance felt his anger flare.  Since when had Benny Ray started lying to him?  And, come to think of it, why hadn't he seen the man for the last six days?

"Come on, Benny Ray," he pressed.  "Something's up.  Does it have something to do with whatever you've been doing while I've been in the hospital?"

"No," the sniper replied before he could stop himself.  "'Sides, ain't been doin' nothin'.  I've been at the hospital with everyone else."

"Oh?" Chance asked, honestly surprised.  "I never saw you."

Benny Ray's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red.  "I, uh…"  Unable to come up with an explanation, the sniper snapped, "Hell, I don't know.  I was there, ain't that enough?"

Chance held the man's gaze, willing him to talk to him, to tell him what was wrong, but the sniper was determined not to cooperate.  He sighed.  "Fine, whatever."  He turned and headed for the stairs, starting up and not stopping until he reached his room.  He only hesitated in the doorway when Benny Ray spoke from behind him.

"Chance," he called.

The pilot turned.  "Yeah?"

Benny Ray sighed heavily, his gaze back on the floor, two more bottles of beer in his hand, both full and unopened.  "I'm sorry, man…  I don't know…  I wanted t'see you, but– I…  Hell, I don't know what I'm tryin' t' say."

Chance walked back and rested his hand on the sniper's shoulder.  "Look, why don't you come in.  We'll share those and talk for a while."

The sniper looked up, meeting the man's eyes.  A part of him wanted to run, but another wanted to do just what Chance had suggested.  He nodded before he could talk himself out of it.  But he honestly didn't know what they were going to talk about; he still didn't understand what his problem was.

 _Yeah, ya do_ , the distant echo in his mind challenged, but he was too afraid to listen.  He hesitantly followed Chance into his suite.

They both sat down, Chance on the bed, Benny Ray in a nice leather chair near the window.  He held out one of the cold beers.  "You really want one of these?" he asked.

Chance thought a moment, then shook his head.  "Guess I better not.  Already took my pain medication."

Benny Ray nodded, then asked, "Ya mind?"

Chance shook his head.  "No, go ahead."

They sat in silence for a short while, Benny Ray draining one of the bottles in several long gulps.

Finally, Chance leaned forward and asked, "So, why didn't you come in to see me?" he asked.

Benny Ray sighed heavily.  "Been askin' myself the same thing," he drawled.  "Don't really know, amigo.  Guess I was…"  He shrugged.  "…spooked."

The comment caught Chance by surprise.  "You have any idea why?"

The sniper shook his head.

"Can't be the first time you've seen someone hurt."

Another shake.  "No."

"What's bothering you now?"

After another long sigh Benny Ray shrugged.  "Don't know."

Chance watched the man twist open the second bottle and suck down a gulp.  The sniper was nervous, beads of sweat on his upper lip and forehead.  His shoulders were hunched, too, one arm held tight against his chest like he was trying to protect himself from something.  And he was looking anywhere but at the pilot.

"Benny Ray," Chance said softly.

The sniper looked at him, then quickly away like he'd been caught doing something wrong.  "Yeah?"

"We're friends, right?"

The sniper nodded.  "Sure."

"Good friends?"

Another nod.

"I'd say the same thing.  In fact, I'd say that we're better friends than most anybody I've ever known.  Best friends, I guess.  And I guess that's to be expected, given the situation here."

"Yeah."

"Is that it?"

Benny Ray looked up again, meeting his gaze for a brief moment.  "What d'ya mean?"

"Hell, Benny Ray, if one of my best friends almost died, I think I'd be a little spooked, too."

The sniper held his gaze a little longer this time, then he shook his head.  "I don't know.  Maybe.  Damn, Chance, I was scared.  _Really_ scared out there.  I thought you were dead, man.  We all did.  And seein' you in Panama…  It was like a slap in the face.  I knew, lookin' at you, that it could be me lying there next time."

"We've always known that, Benny Ray."

"Yeah, but…  Oh, hell, I don't know.  I guess I'd got to thinkin' that we're invincible.  Seein' you like that, it was like… all the magic was gone.  We'd lost it."

Chance nodded.  "I can understand that."

"Look, I ain't blamin' you.  I think it's a damned miracle we ain't all dead.  If it weren't for you, we all _would_ be dead."

The pilot grinned.  "I appreciate that."

Benny Ray looked down at the beer he was still holding, then gulped down another mouthful.  He sighed heavily, then continued, "I guess– I never really– Fuck it."

"No.  Tell me."

          The sniper leaned back against the chair, his eyes closing.  "I didn't think it'd hurt so bad," he said in a strained whisper.

          "What?"

          The blue eyes snapped back open, full of tears.  "Thinkin' I'd lost ya."

          Chance smiled.  "I appreciate that, too."

          Benny Ray sucked in a deep breath and held it, willing himself back under control.

          "Listen," Chance said before all the man's walls were back in place, "it hurts when you lose a friend, Benny Ray.  That's normal."'

          "I know.  I know."  The sniper rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes, then took another swallow of beer. 

          "It's more than that, isn't it," Chance said softly.

          Benny Ray didn't say anything for a moment, then he nodded.  "Guess so."

          "Tell me."

          "When I saw ya in Panama… y' looked so… vulnerable, I guess…  I guess I realized just how much I… care about ya… and that made me think about how much I–"  He broke off, shaking his head, then drinking more of the beer.

          "How much you care about Matt and Margo?"

          Benny Ray hesitated, then nodded.  His expression reminded Chance of a young boy who'd just admitted he'd run over the family dog.

          "And what it would feel like if you lost them?"

          Another nod.

          "Damn, Benny Ray, why don't you tell them?"

          "Can't," he said, not looking at Chance.

          "Why?"

          "Come on, Chance.  Margo's in love with Matt.  And he cares about her, too.  And there ain't no way in hell the major's gonna look twice at a man," the sniper said before he realized he'd actually let his secret slip.

          "But Margo came to _you_ after Bosnia," Chance reminded him.  "She cares about you, too."

          "She came to me 'cause she couldn't go t' anyone else."

          "It's more than that, Benny Ray."

          "Don't think so, amigo.  Besides, she deserved better 'n me.  Hell, so does the major for that matter."

          Chance sighed softly.  That was the beer talking, but the feelings were honest.  They were just usually hidden a little deeper.  "I think C.J.'s just figuring out how much he cares about me, too."

          Benny Ray looked over at the man, a small, sad smile on his lips.  "Hope he's smart 'nough t' do somethin' 'bout it."

          "If he doesn't, I will."

          Benny Ray nodded.

          "But that doesn't help you, does it?"

          The sniper shrugged.  "Nothin' you can do."  He leaned back against the chair again and added, "I guess when y' get right down to it, I know I can't have 'em, so when I thought I'd lost you, too…"

          "You felt like you were all alone."

          Benny Ray nodded, then sighed.  "Y' know, all my life, there's been someone there: my mom, my sister, then Mary Ellen, the guys in my squad…  But I can't talk about what I do, or who I want, with my mom, and my sister's all the way across the freakin' country, and I still can't talk to her about what we do… lost my squad… Mary Ellen divorced me… guess you're– you're like–"

          "I'm family," Chance supplied, understanding exactly what the man was trying to say.

          Benny Ray nodded.  He met the pilot's gaze and offered him a wan smile.  "Like a brother, man.  Someone I can talk to.  Someone who knows about me.  The only one…"

          Chance nodded and smiled back.  "Yeah.  I feel the same way."

          "Damn, Chance, why the hell couldn't we've fallen in love with each other?"

          The pilot laughed.  "Now that's a damned good question.  But, Benny Ray, listen up, man, I really do think we'll _both_ get what we want – eventually."

          Benny Ray shook his head.  "You will.  I've seen how C.J.'s been the last week."

          "Matt'll come around."

          The sniper snorted.  "When pigs fly."

          "Want put a C-note on that?"

          "You're on."

          Chance grinned.  "You're gonna lose."

          "Nope."  Benny Ray finished the beer, then pushed to his feet.  "I'm drunk," he announced.  "Gonna go t' bed."  He started for the door.

          Chance stood and stopped him.  "Why don't you stay here tonight?"

          Benny Ray looked at the man.  He shook his head.  "No.  Thanks.  Don't need a sympathy fuck."

          "I wasn't offering one," Chance countered, reaching out to rest his hand on the top of Benny Ray's shoulder.  The sniper jumped at the touch.  "Just one friend, caring for another."

"I don't think–"

Chance interrupted him, sliding his hand to the back of the man's neck and pulling him close enough to lean in and kiss him.  He felt the sniper stiffen, but after a few moments he relaxed again, beginning to return the kiss.  The pilot could taste the beer on Benny Ray's lips, the flavor becoming more pronounced when the man's lips parted and Chance began a thorough exploration of the sniper's mouth.

Without thinking, both men shifted so they could deepen the contact, until, breathless, they finally parted.

"So, you wanna stay now?" Chance asked, a grin puckering the corners of his mouth.

Benny Ray hesitated a moment, but he nodded as he swallowed hard.  "I wanna stay, but your ribs, and–"

"Let me worry about that," Chance told him, walking to the bed and pulling back the comforter, then the blankets.

Benny Ray stood rooted where he was, sweat breaking out on his chest and back as he considered what might happen if he stayed.  But then again, they might just lie down and go to sleep, content with the comfort of closeness.  His hands began to shake and he walked over and set the second empty beer bottle in the small trash can next to the man's dresser.

"Hey, come on," Chance called softly.

The sniper turned, his mouth falling open when he saw the pilot lying in bed.  Damn, but he did look good, but Benny Ray couldn't help but wish that it was Matt who was looking at him like that.

Chance patted the mattress.  "Come on, man, get naked and get over here.  I'm too sore to chase you down."

Benny Ray grinned and chuckled softly, shaking his head.  "What're ya doin'?  You don't want me.  Go find C.J. an' put him out of his misery."

"I will, but he's not here tonight – you are.  You need a little TLC, Brother Ray, and I'm the man who's going to give it to you.  So get your ass over here."

Benny Ray walked to the bed, then turned around and quickly undressed, down to his BVDs.  He climbed into the bed.

Chance turned off the light, casting the bedroom suite into darkness.  "Hey, Benny Ray, can you reach down there and pull up the covers?"

The sniper quickly did as he'd been asked, and the next thing he knew, he was being cuddled by the pilot, who spooned along his back, the soft fabric of the man's pajamas oddly comforting where it touched his bare skin like a gentle caress.  He sighed softly and closed his eyes, allowing himself to finally relax.  His best friend knew his secret, and he was cool with it.  Chance was going to be fine, too.  They were all okay.  He wasn't alone.  And, thankfully, it didn't look like Chance had anything more than a cuddle in mind, which was just fine with the sniper.  Not that he wouldn't have enjoyed making out with the handsome pilot, but he didn't need to either.  The comfort of the man's closeness was enough.  He felt the pull of sleep and immediately surrendered to it.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Benny Ray wasn't exactly sure what finally drew him from the warm embrace of sleep.  Maybe it was the light touch running over his back, hip and ribs, or maybe it was the delicate kisses being visited on the back of his neck.  In either case, both were wonderful sensations to wake up to, and he allowed himself to bask in that not-quite-awake, not-quite-asleep state, his eyes closed, his thoughts stalled by the soft waves of pleasure.

"Feels good," Benny Ray mumbled as best he could.

"Shhh," was the quiet reply.

The sniper let his next comment fade, unspoken, concentrating instead on the gently arousing touch.  Fingers trailed down his backbone, then a warm palm glided up over his ribs, back down to his hip, and farther, to his thigh, over his cloth-covered ass, back up to start all over again.  Then that hand rubbed over his

side, the fingers seeking out and finding one of his nipples, tracing circles around it until the nub was hard, then they squeezed the pucker, pulled on it, crushed it.

"Mmm," the sniper sighed, the treatment making his groin tingle delightfully.  Then the lips were back, kissing along the back of his neck, the back of his exposed shoulder, the teasing hand moving down over his abdomen to brush along the waistband of his briefs.  Benny Ray's breath began to come a little faster, and the hand responded, trailing back up his belly, finding the second nipple and tempting that one to hardness as well.  The sniper pressed back a fraction, worried that if he went any farther, he might hurt the man.

The petting and kissing continued, Chance's hand moving a little faster, rubbing a little harder.  The sniper trembled and groaned softly when he felt the man's tongue sample the taste of his skin.

With a gentle touch, Benny Ray was cued to roll over onto his back, and he went willingly.  He started to open his eyes, but stopped when Chance kissed one, then the other.

"Leave your eyes closed," the pilot instructed softly.  "I want you to imagine that it's Matt and Margo who are touching you, loving you."

The sniper trembled again.  He'd built up a wide selection of fantasies when it came to the two operators, but he'd never imagined pursuing one of those fantasies while Chance made love to his body.  It was a thrilling concept, but he wasn't sure he could really do it.  He was enjoying what his friend was doing too much to pretend it was someone else.  Still, he was more than willing to take this ride wherever Chance wanted it to go.

The pilot pulled the blankets down, the cool night air causing Benny Ray's skin to prickle with goose-bumps.  But a moment later the pilot's warm mouth was on his nipple, sucking lightly, the tip of his tongue dancing with the hard nub.  Benny Ray arched his back, straining for more contact while he enjoyed the sensation.  Images of Matt, Margo and Chance floated though his mind in an orgy of desire and love.

Chance's hands explored his chest, then he reached down and cupped Benny Ray's cock, sending small bolts of pleasure shooting through the sniper's body.  He quivered, panting slightly as he slowly came alive in Chance's hand, the pilot massaging him through the cloth of his BVDs.  When he was semi-hard, the pilot stopped and pulled the briefs down Benny Ray's legs.

Working his way back up, Chance's fingers teased the sensitive inside of the sniper's legs, then tangled in the dark hair at the man's groin.  When he finally cupped the man again, Benny Ray sucked in a sharp breath, his cock standing up a little straighter.

Chance kissed the wine-colored head, then licked it all over, making Benny Ray quiver again.  He played with the sniper's balls with one hand, caressing his shaft with the other.

"Oh, Christ," Benny Ray whimpered, going fully hard.

Chance grinned, then let go and opened his mouth, taking as much of the sniper as he could.

"Ah, damn," the sniper gasped.

Chance pulled back, sucking Benny Ray mildly as he laved the sensitive underside of the sniper's cock with his tongue.

"Ahhh," was gurgled response.

A moment later, Benny Rays' cock sank into the pilot's throat for a second time and he groaned again, louder, his hips pressing up without conscious thought.

Chance continued to work, licking, sucking, biting carefully.  But his actions quickly became more greedy, more demanding.  The pilot's hand circled the man's shaft, squeezing and pulling in time with his other hand, which did the same to Benny Ray's balls.

"I'm close," the sniper gasped, his legs and belly beginning to shake.

Chance felt the veins in Benny Ray's cock pulsing wildly against his tongue as he swallowed the full length of the sniper's large cock.

"Ohgawd," Benny Ray grunted, his body tense and straining, his hips beginning to thrust, sending his cock in and out of his friend's mouth, faster and faster.

Chance felt the strong pulse that finally freed the sniper's load, then Benny Ray was pumping jets into his mouth.

Gasping, his head snapped back, Benny Ray grunted softly as he emptied himself into his friend's talented mouth.  And even when he had no more to give, Chance continued to suck him, lick him, holding him in his mouth until he began to go soft.

"Damn," Benny Ray chuckled a few minutes later as he welcomed Chance into his arms, "you're gonna make C.J. a _very_ happy man, ya know that, right?"

The pilot grinned wickedly.  "I plan on it."

As the sniper stroked Chance's back he could feel the man's erection, pressing against his thigh.  "Gonna let me help with that?"

"Was hoping you might," the pilot half-growled, then asked quickly, "Did it work?"

Benny Ray chose to ignore the question, moving away from the man, turning and beginning with a careful attack on his senses.

"Benny Ray," Chance sighed.

The sniper silenced the man with a kiss, his hands reaching out to rub lightly over the man's nipples at the same time.  He felt the man's lips part and he took the advantage to explore, enjoying the way their tongues sparred.  It wasn't long before Chance was moaning, his already hard cock, pulsing with need.  Benny Ray shifted so he could reach out and take the man in his mouth.

Chance immediately arched up, then sucked in a sharp gasp, saying, "Shit!"

"You okay?" the sniper asked, concerned.

"Yeah," he replied sheepishly, "forgot about the ribs."

Benny Ray grinned.  "You just lay still.  Let me do the work."

"Think I can do that," the pilot said.  "But only if you hurry."

Benny Ray returned to where he'd left off, lowering his head until his mouth was filled, his tongue licking over the head while his lips surrounded and sucked the pilot's hot shaft.

"Oh, yeah," Chance sighed.

Benny Ray didn't waste any time, knowing his friend was close.  He bobbed his head up and down, Chance's throbbing cock disappearing into the sniper's mouth before sliding back out again, Benny Ray's tongue swirling all around him and working mini-miracles of ecstasy throughout the pilot's cock.

While he worked, Benny Ray pushed one hand under the pilot and squeezed his butt, his other hand wrapped around Chance's balls so he could squeeze them, too.

"Oh, damn… oh, man," the pilot moaned as he felt Benny Ray's middle finger tracing along the crack of his ass.

When Benny Ray saw Chance's balls draw up, he stopped, looking up and asking, "Who ya thinkin' 'bout?"

"Wh-What?"

"Who ya thinkin' 'bout?" he repeated.  "Me, or C.J.?"

It took a moment for the question, and the larger implication, to sink in.  Chance's eyes narrowed dangerously.  "You, damn it, and what I'm gonna do to you if you don't get back to business," he growled.

The sniper grinned, then recaptured Chance's cock, and, at the same moment, pressed his fingertip against the tight ring of the man's ass.

Chance gasped, then groaned, trying to lie still while every nerve demanded that he arch into the heat of the sniper's mouth, or grind his ass back onto the teasing digit.  But he could do neither.  So he surrendered to the pleasure and came, moaning softly as he enjoyed the release.

Benny Ray sucked him dry, then climbed up and laid down next to him with a contented sigh.

"Damn fine job," the sniper said.

"Amen, Brother Ray."

"I meant you," he half-growled.

Chance grinned.  "You, too."

"So, was it really me, or were you thinkin' what it'd be like if that was C.J.?"

"You," the pilot replied immediately.  "What you were doing felt so good I couldn't think… you?"

"Same."

Chance laughed, although it was almost a giggle.

"What?" Benny Ray asked.

"You were right, man.  It _would've_ been easier if we'd fallen in love with each other."

"Too late now," the sniper sighed, but he grinned..

"Yeah, I know."

"I want you t'know, I appreciated what you did, and why you did it."

"Hey, that's what friends are for."

"Chance, I can honestly say I've never had a friend who made me feel like _that_."

The pilot laughed.  "Yeah, okay, me either."  He met the sniper's eyes, holding his gaze as he added, "It's all gonna work out.  Trust me."

Benny Ray smiled sadly, but he nodded, "I trust you," he said, "just don't know if I believe you."  
          "You'll see.  One of these days, you're going to owe me a hundred bucks."

"If you're right, I'll pay y' double."

Chance smiled.  "Cool."


End file.
